


You're Nobody Til Somebody Wants You Dead

by marywhale



Series: The Avenger Zone [5]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Marvel Cinematic Universe Fusion, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Assassins & Hitmen, F/M, M/M, Romance, Violence, the au of the au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-01-04 21:59:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21204746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marywhale/pseuds/marywhale
Summary: Things could have gone differently. Kravitz and the Soldier could have been killed trying to escape the Red Room together. Or worse — the Soldier could have been forced into the chair and had his memories stripped away. Kravitz could be alone.Instead, they have this and each other and they get tokeephaving it. They’re the best assassins in the world, expensively for hire, and unattached to anyone but each other. Kravitz wouldn't trade this for anything.An AU of All the Things You Prayed For where things went differently in the Red Room.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Over on tumblr, anonymousAlchemist and I mentioned that we've written a few AUs of The Avenger Zone. This is one of them. We call it the "bad kids au." If you haven't read _[All the Things You Prayed For](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15501099/chapters/35984763)_ yet, this absolutely will not make sense to you. If you have... enjoy!
> 
> CW: The first two scenes feature implied sexual content and, like, just a lot of flirting.

Kravitz wakes up because the Soldier is leaning over him, groping for his phone on the nightstand. “Love,” he says, stretching out under the Soldier. “I could pass that to you.”

“I got it,” the Soldier says, glancing down at Kravitz, blond hair falling loose around his face. He smiles, leaning in to press a kiss to Kravitz’s forehead. “You can go back to sleep, baby. I wanna check emails.”

Sleep sounds good — their bed is big and warm and soft — but they’re both naked and the Soldier’s hips are pressed to Kravitz’s stomach and he doesn’t _really_ want to miss out on that, now that he’s awake. “I’m up,” he says, sliding a hand up the Soldier’s back. “Emails could wait.”

The Soldier laughs and ducks his head to peck Kravitz on the lips before flopping down next to him in bed, phone in hand. “Emails first, then fucking,” he says. “I’m a _professional._”

“You’re a tease.” Kravitz rolls onto his side, wrapping a leg around one of the Soldier’s and draping an arm over his chest. There’s no heat in the accusation. Sex sounds nice, but this is good too. The Soldier and his metal arm are a heatsink — keeping Kravitz from feeling overheated in bed, piled high with blankets in deference to the Soldier running cold. Kravitz likes sleepy mornings in the long stretches of time between jobs — laying in bed and talking, cuddling together without having to rush anywhere. Sometimes Kravitz thinks he’s used to being with the Soldier, used to their life together, and then he wakes up to moments like this and is hit with how _lucky_ he is to have it all over again.

Things could have gone differently. Kravitz and the Soldier could have been killed trying to escape the Red Room together. Or worse — the Soldier could have been forced into the chair and had his memories stripped away. Kravitz could be alone.

Instead, they have this and each other and they get to keep having it. They’re the best assassins in the world, expensively for hire, unattached to anyone but each other. He wouldn't trade this for anything.

He presses a kiss to the Soldier’s flesh shoulder and the Soldier makes an inquiring noise. “Feeling sappy today, baby?”

Kravitz looks up at the Soldier and smiles. “No, just happy.”

“Gross,” says the Soldier, lacing his metal fingers through Kravitz’s. He raises Kravitz’s hand to his lips and presses a kiss to his palm. His expression is open and soft and Kravitz _loves_ him — he loves him and Kravitz spent the first twenty-two years of his life believing he wasn’t capable of love. He knows better now. He is devoted to the Soldier and their life together in a way he was never devoted to the Red Room or his handlers.

“Very gross,” Kravitz agrees happily, shifting so he can kiss the Soldier properly again. “Anything good in your email?”

“A job.” The Soldier puts the phone down, winding his arms around Kravitz and tugging him closer. “Easy-peasy. Someone wants the head of SHIELD assassinated.”

Kravitz snorts, letting himself be pulled on top of the Soldier. “Oh, just assassinating the head of an American intelligence agency, lyubimiy? Of course. No problem.”

“Not for me.” The Soldier’s hands slide down to Kravitz’s ass and he gives it a squeeze. “Long-range hit. In and out.” The Soldier leans up, kissing Kravitz’s neck, his jaw, up to his ear. “You know what _else_ is easy?”

Kravitz laughs breathlessly, tilting his head to the side to give the Soldier better access. “You’re awful,” he says, like his leg isn’t pressed between the Soldier’s thighs and he’s not rocking their hips together.

“You love me,” says the Soldier, with absolute certainty.

Which is fair, honestly. There is nothing in their lives are certain as their love for each other. “Yeah,” Kravitz says, turning his head so he can kiss the Soldier properly. “I really do.”

#

When Kravitz emerges from the shower, towel slung low on his hips, the Soldier is in the kitchen making eggs and bacon. He’s humming to himself — an American song from the forties, one of the Soldier’s favourites — and gestures to a plate sitting on the counter before Kravitz can plaster himself against the Soldier’s back. “I heard the shower shut off. Eat, baby.”

Kravitz rolls his eyes but sits at the counter in their gleaming kitchen, picking up his fork. The Soldier’s love of cooking had been a surprise to them both, but now that they’ve been free agents for a couple decades and have accumulated _more_ than enough in the way of commissions to keep themselves comfortable, their kitchen is a fully-equipped work of art. Their house is small, but furnished with ultra high-end goods, bought because they could afford them and they wanted them. It also sits above a private beach.

On his own, there’s no way Kravitz would have dreamed this up, but now that he has it, he loves it. He can’t imagine living anywhere else. And, yes, they can afford to live in luxury because they can do the jobs no one else can, but they’re _alive_ because they’re smarter than most people in their profession.

“Are you really going to take this job, love?” he asks, picking up a piece of bacon. “It’s the Director of SHIELD.”

“You don’t think I can do it?” The Soldier slides a heap of scrambled eggs onto a plate and joins Kravitz at the counter. “I can do it. I’m the _best_.”

“You _can._ I’m just not sure you _should_,” says Kravitz. “Men who assassinate powerful people don’t usually get away with it.”

“They have a scapegoat picked out, I’m sure,” says the Soldier, waving his metal hand dismissively. “It’s a political assassination. Politician-on-director. Baby, you’re worrying too much about it. Why does this have you spooked? Is it the American thing?” The Soldier tilts his head to the side as he studies Kravitz. “Is it _SHIELD_?”

“They found us before.” It’s been twenty years, but Kravitz isn’t about to forget being ambushed by a major American intelligence agency. They’d been hired for a complicated hit — the kind of job that required both of them — on American soil, but it had been a trap. They done their research, staked out the target for weeks and _still_ they’d walked right into a nest of highly armed SHIELD special ops and had to kill their way out. They left one agent alive with instructions to tell her superiors to go _fuck_ themselves and bolted. 

Falling for SHIELD’s trap still stings. They stay away from America as much as they can.

Kravitz narrows his eyes at the Soldier. “Is this about revenge for ‘92?”

“No, that’s just a nice bonus.” The Soldier shrugs. “Krav, I _get_ why you’re suspicious, but do you really think we’re the only people who don’t like her? She runs an _intelligence agency._”

Kravitz feels better now that he understands why the Soldier wants to do the job — even if his reasons are terrible. “You just want to be able to go to America again.”

“That’s a _small_ part of it.” The Soldier takes out his phone and slides it across the table to Kravitz. “The other part is the price tag.”

Kravitz unlocks the Soldier’s phone to look at the email more carefully and — yes, okay, that is a _lot_ of money. “So they know it’s a bad idea too.”

“They know how to make an appealing offer,” the Soldier corrects. “They know that they need the best for this job.”

Kravitz hands the Soldier back his phone. “The best should let me come with him.”

“I’m gonna be _fine_,” the Soldier says. “You’ll be tracking me every step of the way and I’ll make all our regular check-ins. It’s a long range hit. In and out. They give us half the money. I make an impossible shot nobody will be able to trace. They give us the rest of the money. I get on a plane out of there, jump around the globe for a bit, and I’m back here as soon as I know they can’t follow me. I’ll be extra safe. You’re worrying for nothing.”

Kravitz knows he’s not and he also knows the Soldier is full of shit. He reaches out to link their fingers together. “Love,” he says. “Do you think I was born yesterday?”

The Soldier gives Kravitz his best innocent look. It’s not very good. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean, _kotyonek_, that you’re not letting me come with you because it’s _America_ and _SHIELD_ and you _know_ it’s dangerous.”

“Okay,” says the Soldier. “Maybe a _little_ dangerous, but even more reason for you to stay home while I take the job — if something goes wrong and I can’t handle it myself someone’s gotta be waiting in the wings to bail me out.” 

The Soldier smiles, like Kravitz should be comforted — not terrified — by this thought. Kravitz has never dreaded getting to say _I told you so_ as much as he does right now.

#

The Soldier is late leaving to catch his plane to the States because Kravitz lures him into fucking against the door, sliding his hands under the Soldier’s shirt and pressing up against him, his mouth wet and pliant, calling him _love_, murmuring sweet nothings about how he would miss him. Should have known better. Kravitz makes a very sweet honeypot when he wants to and he’s paranoid about this job the way he’s paranoid about _every_ job they work now that involves America — get ambushed once and suddenly a whole country’s off limits.

Not that the Soldier minds steering clear. It’s a good plan. So it taking this job and letting some politician pay him _five million dollars_ to take out the Director of SHIELD. One step closer to being able to take work in America again — a fuckin’ ideal scenario because the Americans are always upset about something and their ultra-wealthy have more money than sense. The Soldier and his boy are gonna fleece them.

He’s late leave, but he makes up the time by driving fast and makes it to the airfield on time to catch a flight to Buenos Aires, where he can get on a _real_ plane that will take him to Mexico City, where he catches a flight to Cuba, and from Cuba to Halifax, then to Quebec City, to Toronto, and from there to D.C.

It takes a long fuckin’ time. He’ll take even longer to get back home and hop around more, but connecting through Cuba fucks the Americans over and maybe he’s being lazy. Seven flights is fine. Kravitz can give him shit for it later.

The Soldier texts Kravitz when he arrives in D.C. — a plane emoji and the thumbs up emoji so Kravitz knows he’s safe. Then a heart, so Kravitz knows he’s thinking about the door and the fucking and how the plane rides are long and boring without Kravitz there for company.

It’s a lot of sentiment for three emojis to carry, but Kravitz sends back a heart so the Soldier knows he got the gist of the message.

The Soldier’s set to meet the client — probably a middle man — and get half the cash wired to his and Kravitz’s account before the job. They’re meeting in a parking garage because of course they fuckin’ are — nobody ever wants to finalize a deal over ice cream or grab a coffee. It’s always dark, dirty buildings in the middle of nowhere and a contact who looks like he’s about to shit himself when the Soldier saunters out of the shadows.

He does enjoy that part. It’s nice to know his rep still holds, even after all these years.

The Soldier doesn’t bother getting his kit on for the exchange — just rolls up in jeans and a hoodie, hair tied back in a loose ponytail. He’s got guns and knives and he’s not _stupid_. He scoped the place out first — made sure there was no ambush waiting for him — but he likes the power play of looking like he just showed up last minute, like he doesn’t even begin to register his clients as a threat.

Three minutes before they’re scheduled to meet, a black sports car drives into the complex and parks in the north corner of the third floor. A man steps out — tall, slim, hair impeccably kept. He’s wearing an expensive suit and a purple tie and rather than look scared when the Soldier steps out of the darkness to greet him, he looks _delighted_.

That might explain why Brian came himself rather than doing the _reasonable_ thing and sending a middle man to deal with his hired assassin.

“Ah, Soldier!” Brian says, clasping his hands together. “You must forgive me for being so uncouth, but zis is an _honour_. I am a big fan of your work.”

The Soldier can’t say this is a reaction he gets very often.

“Ze hit in Belize four years ago. Was zat you?” Before the Soldier can respond Brian waves a hand, dismissing the question. “I’m sure you don’t talk about your clients with each other, I won’t pry, but… inspired. Ze precision of ze shot — nobody else could make it.” He smiles, wide and open, his eyes sparkling with genuine delight. “I knew right away you were ze man for zis job when I saw zat. But forgive me — my name is Brian.”

Brian is the Secretary of Defense for the United States of America. The Soldier knows who he is. He does his best imitation of Kravitz’s creepy cardboard smile and shakes Brian’s hand. “You know who I am.”

“I do,” says Brian, looking very pleased to meet the Soldier. “I trust you understand ze… _sensitive_ nature of zis job?”

“You can’t have it linked back to you,” the Soldier says, shrugging and sliding his hands into his pockets. “Probably be bad for your political career.”

“Alas,” says Brian, like that’s a word people say, “if zis were not ze case my life would be much easier, but here we are. Zis is my only requirement. You are free to do ze job as you wish otherwise. Do we have a deal?”

The Soldier wants revenge on SHIELD anyway. This was he gets paid for it. “We have a deal,” he confirms. “You have the payment ready?”

“Oh, ready and waiting.” Brian grins at the Soldier. “Zis is going to be worth every penny.”

#

The Soldier gives himself a couple days to observe Lucretia’s habits. She’s the director of one of the largest intelligence agencies in the world — she’s gonna be paranoid as shit because people probably make regular attempts on her life. She’s not out in the public eye, the way some people are, although the alien thing shoved SHIELD into the spotlight. That’s what’ll happen when you decided to recruit some idiots in tights and a robot suit and call them _superheroes_ like you’re living in a comic book.

The Soldier’s kind of into it, honestly. He joked with Kravitz about rebranding — selling themselves as superheroes for hire instead of assassins. There probably wasn’t as much money in saving kittens from trees or whatever, but the Soldier wouldn’t mind meeting an alien — even if all he was doing was punching it. Plus, Kravitz looks good in tight clothes.

Kravitz’s counterpoint to the Soldier’s argument for becoming superheroes was that they’d have to talk to organizations like SHIELD — organizations like the Red Room — and listen to them, take orders, accept whatever missions they were given.

Fuck that. The Soldier’s not going back to being anyone’s puppet and he won’t let Kravitz end up like that again either. They’ve got each other and that’s all they need. They choose their own missions now — depending on who’s asking, what they want, and how much they’re being paid. Some of them — like assassinating the director of SHIELD — are harder than others. 

That’s fine with him though. This one is gonna be _fun_.

Kravitz was right, bringing up ‘92 — the closest they’ve ever come to being caught in a trap. It _still_ rankles the Soldier that he didn’t see through the ploy to get him to come to America and waltz into it. Sure, he and Kravitz murdered all but one of the people who tried to bring them in, but it’s a mark on his record and it bothers the Soldier like a loose tooth.

Killing the director will be revenge for managing to trick him and Kravitz. Also it’ll pay _really_ well and the Soldier’s been reading a lot of articles about backyard, woodfired pizza ovens lately.

On the third day of tailing her, the Soldier sets up camp on top of a building a few blocks away from SHIELD. There are three routes out of the complex that sits on the edge of the Potomac. Lucretia has already used the other two this week. It’s possible she’ll use one of the others again, to break up the pattern, but the one the Soldier’s monitoring is a commercial street that clears out after five — and the Director usually stays at work well after that. It’s a good place to shoot at a moving car. It’s a good place to avoid traffic. It’s a good place for an assassination.

The Soldier could be quieter about this, but Brian said he could do it however he wanted — the Soldier’s gonna make a mess.

Lucretia drives a dark blue SUV. The Soldier assumes it’s armoured, although it looks like every other SUV out there — not especially hearty. Sitting behind the wheel, Lucretia could be a mom on her way to baseball practice, except for the air of gravitas she projects, even when seen through the scope of a rifle.

The Soldier’s got armour piercing rounds in his rifle. He’s ready to spring up and book it out of the area as quickly as possible once he takes Lucretia out. He lies on his stomach, behind the rifle, tracking the progress of her SUV and taking slow, deep breaths, letting the thoughts in his head settle, pushes himself into the nowhere space he sometimes goes even when he’s not shooting — time seems slower when he’s focusing this intently, the world unreal.

When the SUV pauses at a stop sign, the Soldier fires.

The bullet hits the SUV’s window a split second later — a perfect headshot, a fuck you to SHIELD for the Incident that means he and Kravitz had avoided the States ever since, even though the Soldier has an irrational fondness for America.

A fuck you, except the window doesn’t break — the bullet hits and the window cracks, and the bullet lodges in the SUV window. There’s no burst of blood inside the car, no sudden swerve off the road. Lucretia, through the scope, looks momentarily alarmed and then takes a sharp right turn, screeching through the next intersection and away, into the night.

The Soldier reloads hastily, lining up another, longer shot and aiming for one of Lucretia’s back tires. The wind is high and even as he squeezes the trigger he’s swearing under his breath in Russian because he _knows_ he’s going to miss this one.

The Soldier watches his bullet his pavement instead of rubber and pushes himself upright, rapidly disassembling his rifle and packing up to get the fuck off the roof he’s on before the backup the Director is _definitely_ calling right shows up.

When the Soldier catches Kravitz up on this mission, he’s gonna editorialize this part of it.

#

It takes the Soldier a couple hours to catch Lucretia’s trail again. He could have done it faster, but he took a break to grab a coffee and a couple pastries before the coffee shops closed for the night. Lucretia ditched her SUV and her private phone almost immediately — a tactic which _would_ have helped her lose him, if the Soldier didn’t have a backdoor to SHIELD’s internal systems ready and waiting, thanks for Brian apparently not being _great_ at the international security portion of his job. As it is, tracking the signal from her SHIELD issued phone is a piece of cake.

Lucretia’s holed up in a second floor apartment in a nice little building in Georgetown. The apartment is dark and the blinds are down, but the Soldier has better vision than most people — he can see the shadow of someone sitting through the slats, discernable because every so often Lucretia moves. There’s faint strains of music coming from inside, which means she’s worried about being bugged as well as followed. Weird priorities, since the Soldier’s actively hunting her down, but fair given how ready Brian was to give the Soldier tracking data on Lucretia.

Also since the Secretary of Defense hired the world’s greatest assassin to kill her. She’s right to be paranoid.

Someone pulls up to the building on a motorcycle. Other than registering the sound, the Soldier ignores them. He is still, centered. His whole world is the faint outline of Lucretia’s shadow on the far wall of the apartment.

The apartment grows lighter for a moment, then dark again — someone opening a door and walking inside.

The Soldier shifts, using his scope to scan what he can see of the apartment. He doesn’t do freebies — he won’t shoot whoever Lucretia’s friend is — but he’s gotta know if they’re someone who’s gonna chase him down after he murders their boss. Probably. If Lucretia’s trusting them enough to give up her location, they’ve gotta be loyal to her on a personal level.

The Soldier spots the other person’s profile, barely visible as they press their back to a wall and face the spot the Soldier’s pretty sure Lucretia’s sitting. If he wanted to, the Soldier could take the newcomer out — their profile’s enough of a giveaway that it’d be easy to nail the shot.

No freebies though.

The Soldier swings his scope back to aim at Lucretia’s shadow, watching for any hint of moment, and then Lucretia’s friend fucks up — they switch on the lights.

They switch on the lights, and suddenly the interior of the apartment is clear as day. Lucretia’s still hidden behind a wall, but her shadow shifts as she rises to her feet, hand reaching out — the Soldier assumes she’s reaching to turn the lights _off_ — and he takes the shot. He takes _several_ shots.

The window shatters into a million pieces. The Soldier sees Lucretia fall forward, collapsing onto the floor with red blooming across her blue shirt. Her friend — a woman holding a shield that looks like a giant target, grabs her and drags her out of harm’s way.

The Soldier packs up his equipment as fast as possible, scooping up shell casings and stuffing them into his bag. He slings his gun across his back. He needs to —

The door on the roof of the building Lucretia was in slams open. The Soldier turns and makes a break for it, booking it across the roof, jumping to the next building. He’s faster than most people. He’s not worried about her catching him, but he’s not wearing a mask and if his face ends up on a wanted poster, Kravitz will _never_ let him hear the end of it. They’ve got a vacation to Paris planned for the fall and the Soldier is _not_ gonna miss out on fresh croissants and teasing Kravitz about stealing something from the Louvre to spice up their interior decorating.

The only reason the woman’s shield doesn’t take his head off is because some instinct makes the Soldier turn and snatch it out of the air at the last moment, the impact of metal and metal reverberating up his arm.

He glances up from the shield in his hand, at the woman who threw it, and nearly drops the thing because she has his _face_ — she looks _exactly_ like him and that’s — the Soldier doesn’t know how the _fuck_ that’s possible, because he’s the Winter Soldier and she’s some American SHIELD agent with a weird shield fetish and this is —

“Taako?” she says, face frozen in a mixture of hope and fear, eyes wide like she’s looking at a ghost.

The Soldier feels a sharp flash of _something_ in his chest. It makes him falter, makes him not reach for the handgun on his hip. 

He makes a split-second decision. He throws the shield back at her and he drops off the side of the building, running away from the woman and the shield and the sudden, overwhelming sense of deja vu that just slammed into him like a freight train.

Who the hell is _Taako?_

#

The Soldier is scheduled to meet Brian in another parking garage — this one in a more deserted part of the city. Lucretia’s dead so it follows that Brian would be more paranoid about the meeting this time. The Soldier wonders if maybe he’ll be smart and send an underling.

He’s distracted. He keeps thinking about the woman on the rooftop, the way she said “_Taako_” and stared at him like she knew him. The way her face was _his _face.

Thinking about it for too long makes his head hurt, but the Soldier can’t stop trying to come up with plausible explanations for the similarity in appearance. Except there _are_ none because how could there be? What good reason is there for someone else to look exactly like you?

The Soldier doesn’t remember his childhood. It’s never bothered him before — it’s not like Kravitz’s was anything to write home about. The Soldier assumes his was the same. Now he can’t help wondering if there’s something important he should remember, something he should be looking for — something that was taken from him with the machine the Red Room used to use. 

He’ll run it by Kravitz. With Lucretia dead, they’ll be able to lurk around America more. They can track down the woman and interrogate her.

Brian’s slick black car pulls into the garage and the Soldier has to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Too much of a fanboy to be smart about this — good to know, if he ever needs to clean up loose ends.

Brian practically bounces out of car, smiling broadly and clasping his hands together in front of his chest. “Soldier, zat was phenomenal!” he says. “You are exactly what zey say you are, aren’t you? I am so pleased you could complete zis mission.”

_Mission_. Like the Soldier works for him or something. “I’m the best of the best,” he says, because it’s true and he _does_ like praise. “I’ve got the account number for the second wire transfer. You ready?”

“Of course, of course,” Brian says, reaching into his suit jacket pocket and pulling out a slim, black notebook. He flips it open. “Just to be sure — you have no trouble with Captain America?”

“Captain America?” Taako repeats, raising his eyebrows. He knows a little about her — one of the superheroes who fought some aliens a couple years back — but the Soldier’s not stupid. He and Kravitz avoid dealing with superhero nonsense as much as possible.

If she’s the lady with the shield, then he’s _really_ got some questions.

“Perfect,” says Brian, warmly, almost coy. “Soldier — Sputnik! Nightshade! Ichor!”

The Soldier’s bones turn to jelly and his knees give out, mind racing as he collapses onto the hard cement beneath him. It smells like oil and gasoline. The Soldier can feel rocks digging into his cheek.

Brian walks over and uses a loafer-clad foot to roll him onto his back. “Zat’s more like it,” he says, pleased. “Ze Hunger has been searching for you for a long time, Soldier. Off making a spectacle of yourself — like you did not belong to us. Like we did not make you. We are eternal. We are _legion_. You cannot escape and now… now you are home.”

_Home_. The Soldier thinks about Kravitz, who told him this was a bad idea, waiting for him in their house in Brazil, expecting a coded text confirming that the Soldier’s job is done and on his way back. Home is _not_ handlers who use him. Home is the man he loves. The Soldier keeps his eyes locked on Brian, struggling to break the hold of the trigger words. It’s been so long since they were used. He just assumed they wouldn’t work anymore — he assumed everyone who knew them was dead.

He and Kravitz killed everyone in the Red Room. Who the _fuck_ is theHunger?

Brian’s eyes are cold as he raises a hand, signalling for people to come over and scoop the Soldier off the ground. “Ze Red Room lost you,” he says. “Zey were too generous — too soft. I will not be zis way.” He smiles — a cold, dead smile, a smile of satisfaction. “Do not worry, Soldier. We have improved on ze technology in your absence. Soon your mind will be clear again. Soon you will not remember zere was ever a life zat was not your mission.”

The Soldier tries to lash out with his metal arm as he’s hoisted up and dragged towards the car. He tries to open his mouth — to scream, to tell Brian to go _fuck_ himself, to promise them all that Kravitz is coming for them and they’re not going to like it when he finds them.

He tries to break free of the hold so he can run. So he can make sure he doesn’t forget because this is _Kravitz_ and their _life_ together at stake — this is everything the Soldier has ever made for himself. This is fuckin’ worst case scenario.

The Soldier is shoved unceremoniously into the trunk of Brian’s car and the thick-necked goon who put him in smiles nastily. “I don’t see why the boss wants you,” he says. “Seem pretty easy to take out to me.” The man pulls out a big stick that, when he pushes a button on the handle, crackles with electricity. “Just in case though.”

The Soldier’s last thought, as the taser is jabbed into his side, is _I’m sorry_, projected across the thousands of miles that stretch out between them. Is the image of Kravitz’s face, his brows creased in concern as he asked the Soldier not to go on this mission. Is hope beyond hope that Kravitz is going to step out of the shadows and save him from this, the way he did back in the Red Room, when they ran away together.

No one comes for him.

The world goes black.

#

When the Soldier opens his eyes, he is calm and prepared and looking up at his handler. He has never seen this man before. He does not know where he is.

This does not matter. He is a thing with singular purpose.

“What is my mission?” the Soldier asks.

The handler smiles. The Soldier does not think about what the handler’s smile conveys beyond approval. It is unimportant. “Soldier,” says the handler, “zis is an important mission. You are going to kill Captain America.”


	2. Chapter 2

By the time Kravitz realizes something is wrong, there are three helicarriers in the Potomac and grainy photographs of the Soldier are all over the internet — along with an uncomfortable amount of information about the Red Room. He and the Soldier are ghosts haunting SHIELD’s records — the shape of their influence noticeable when you know where to look, but the specifics are few and far between.

There is a photo of Kravitz, taken shortly after the Red Room injected him with the serum, staring down a camera with a neutral expression on his face. A file on his training that identifies him as a member of the abandoned Reaper Program. There is no record of his death, but no record of his escape with the Soldier either. The Red Room didn’t record their mistakes for prosperity. Perhaps there are other files in the data dump with more specifics. Kravitz hasn’t had time to look — he’s been too busy getting himself to New York.

The tracker in the Soldier’s shoulder says he’s in Hallwinter Tower. Kravitz has been following the news on his way up from Brazil. It’s been four days since three helicarriers fell into the Potomac and derailed his “Why hasn’t the Soldier checked in yet?” flight to D.C., grounding his plane in Guatemala. He stole a truck and drove North, through Mexico, then up through the American south. There are screens everywhere in America. It’s been easy to follow the twenty-four hour news cycle.

Captain America was in the hospital, briefly, before returning home to Manhattan with Iron Man. Suspects are still being rounded up after the Hunger’s exposure and the subsequent fall of SHIELD. The international intelligence community is in chaos, and nobody seems to be entirely sure what happened yet, but Kravitz can piece the important parts of it together, even if the press isn’t talking about the Winter Soldier yet.

Captain America looks just like the Soldier, only without his enhancements. The Soldier is in Hallwinter Tower. The _Avengers_ — including Captain America and Iron Man — live in Hallwinter Tower.

Captain America is holding the Soldier hostage and Kravitz is ready to do anything he needs to get him back — including killing two of the most powerful people on the planet. He’s angry enough. He could do it. Besides, as soon as Kravitz finds the Soldier and sets him free from whatever prison they’re keeping him in, he’s going to have some _very_ pissed off backup. 

Kravitz can’t wait. He’s going to make them pay for taking the Soldier prisoner. And then he’s going to tell his boyfriend, who he loves more than anything, that he fucking _told_ him this was a trap.

Kravitz takes a deep breath and looks up at Hallwinter Tower. There are plenty of tourists mingling on the street across from it, so he knows he doesn’t stick out — just another person sightseeing, gawking at an eyesore of a building inhabited by superheroes.

Infiltrating by day is a no-go. He’s going to have to wait for nightfall, and he’s going to have to find a way in that doesn’t involve the front door because he needs to neutralize Hallwinter as fast as possible. It’s his building. He’s bound to have security on call, even if he _is_ Iron Man. Kravitz can’t risk being overpowered by sheer numbers because he was impatient. It’d be a stupid way to get caught.

He wishes he had more time to stake out the building, to watch Hallwinter and Captain America come and go for a few days, but there’s no way he’s leaving the Soldier with them that long. The Soldier is, he’s sure, working on getting himself out too, but Kravitz _really_ wants that _I told you so_ moment.

So not the front doors. The parking garage is out too, because everything the tourists around him are saying indicates the living quarters being high up in the building — the top floors, where there’s a visible balcony and landing pad, suspended high in the air. And _that’s_ an entry point that probably isn’t too well guarded, especially at night. It’s going to be a bitch to get to, but it’s _right there_, an open invitation.

Kravitz doesn’t have a jet, but a jet would be loud anyway. Instead, he’s got the next best thing — a building next to Hallwinter Tower with a roof just a _little_ lower than the balcony, some rope, and _very_ good aim. 

Kravitz is _going_ to get his boyfriend back.

#

The wind whips around him, stronger this high up than it was on the street earlier in the day, as Kravitz balances on the edge of a rooftop, looking across the vast stretch of empty space between him and Hallwinter Tower. The lights in the three floors of living quarters are off, no signs of anyone awake inside. The sounds of the city are muffled by the distance between him and the ground. It would be calming, standing all alone in the dark, the lights of New York City glinting up at him, if he weren’t completely focused on getting the Soldier back. His hair is tied up and pinned down — no handholds — and he’s secured as many weapons to his body as he physically can without impeding range of motion.

Kravitz rolls his shoulders and let’s his Reaper persona settle over him. He is the last living member of the Red Room — the Winter Soldier’s shadow. He is a knife between the ribs, aimed straight at the heart. He is deadly and quick and _furious_.

He’s not prepared to take on two superheroes single-handed. He hasn’t had enough time to plan and he has no backup. It doesn’t matter — failure is not an option here.

The heavy _thunk_ of his zipline hitting Hallwinter’s balcony and digging in is audible from Kravitz’s perch, but no lights come on. Kravitz tugs on the line, testing its security, and then clips himself to the thick cable that now runs between him and the tower. He hooks a leg over the line, gripping it with gloved hands as he swings his other leg up and starts to make his way across the gap between the buildings, pulling himself along hand over hand, hanging from the cable.

He’s not afraid of heights, but he’s not stupid either — Kravitz doesn’t look down, focusing on moving, slow and steady, as stable as a man hanging on a rope between two skyscrapers with the wind whipping up around him can be. 

The leather of his gloves is thick enough to protect his hands from the cold, but when he reaches the balcony after an endless, slow crawl up to Hallwinter Tower, his fingers still protest being uncurled and his knees are locked in place — his ankles hooked together. Kravitz forces his fingers to work, stretching out one hand at a time, and then carefully unlocks his legs. He hauls himself up, onto the balcony, and only unclips himself from the line when he’s certain he’s steady. He hasn’t stayed alive this long by being stupid, even if the need to get to the Soldier and get him out is a constant thrum in the back of his mind.

Kravitz is close. He has to neutralize Hallwinter and Captain America, then find the Soldier — how hard could it be?

Kravitz takes the extra time to stretch his hands and legs again before drawing a knife and creeping across the balcony, to the large sliding doors set into a wall of windows. This high up, people make dumb mistakes, assuming the height will keep them safe. Hallwinter’s no exception — the door is unlocked.

Kravitz eases it open and slips into a dark room. A common area — low couches in front of a television, a small kitchen. Everything _looks_ expensive, but it’s also painfully generic — like a hotel. All that money and Hallwinter still can’t buy good taste.

Kravitz keeps to the shadows as he walks through the room, heading towards the dark hallway opposite the wall of windows that must lead to private rooms. Hallwinter must have some kind of security system, but he’s hoping keeping still and silent will stop him from setting it off. He hasn’t had the time he’d need to _really_ research the tower and figure out what kind of system Hallwinter is running. The Soldier is better with computers anyway.

Kravitz is halfway through the room — clinging to the walls and moving slow — when he hears footsteps running down the hall. A single set. Someone not too heavy set. Kravitz moves to the wall beside the hallway entrance and presses back against it, knife in hand, and waits.

A woman launches herself into the room holding a huge metal shield and wearing pajamas — Captain America, her hair a mess, stops with her back to Kravitz, glancing wildly around the room in search of the person who broke in.

Kravitz launches himself at her back, wrapping an arm around her neck, lashing out with a knife, and — Captain America slams her shield against his arm and knocks the knife away. Kravitz grits his teeth and changes tactics, tightening his grip on her neck, arm locked around her throat.

Captain America hits him with the shield again, hard. Pain vibrates down Kravitz’s side, but he ignores it, hanging on grimly because they have _the Soldier_ and Kravitz would do anything for him. A little pain is nothing. He grew up in the Red Room. He _knows_ pain.

Captain America lets out a choked out noise that might be her telling him to fuck off. Kravitz hangs on grimly. It’s not an _efficient_ way to kill a Super Soldier, but —

Hallwinter slams into Kravitz in full Iron Man armor, sending all three of them toppling to the ground — Hallwinter on top of Kravitz on top of Captain America.

Kravitz loses his grip on Captain America’s neck.

“What _took_ you so long, babe?” Captain America demands, voice rough.

“Had to get dressed,” says Hallwinter.

Kravitz slips out from between them, unholstering his gun and another knife. “Where is the Soldier?” he demands. “Where are you holding him?”

“Mother_fucker_.” Captain America grabs her shield as she gets to her feet, glaring at Kravitz. “You’re not gonna see him ever again.”

The room is still dark, but Kravitz fires an imprecise shot at her head anyway. She raises her shield _just_ in time to deflect it — the same casual way the Soldier deflects bullets with his arm. 

“Where,” asks Kravitz, from between gritted teeth, “is he?”

“None of your fuckin’ business!” Captain America bites out. “You’ll get your hands on him over my dead body.”

“With _pleasure_,” Kravitz says, and launches himself at the Captain again, knife first. 

He’s ready for her shield this time, dropping down and sliding across the wooden floor to slash at her legs at the last moment. He’s back up on his feet a half second later, firing a shot at Iron Man just to see if Hallwinter’s suit is as bulletproof as Captain America’s shield.

“Jesus,” says Hallwinter, like he wasn’t expecting to actually have to _fight_. “This is — JARVIS, lights on!”

Kravitz is momentarily blinded by the lights in the common room coming up all at once. He blinks, and then Captain America is crashing into him — slamming him against the wall. “What do you want with Taako?” she demands, glaring at him as she pins him with her shield. This close, the resemblance to the Soldier is _uncanny_. Their faces are nearly identical except the Soldier has never looked at him with such contempt.

“Who the hell is _Taako?_” Kravitz asks, and then slams his forehead into Captain America’s. She swears, the pressure of her shield against his chest loosening just enough for him to twist free. He slips out of pinning range — standing warily with his back to the kitchen.

Neither of them is _really_ trying to hurt him yet. Iron Man has lasers. He could just shoot Kravitz dead, if he wanted to. Maybe they’re trying to avoid dealing with a dead body in their living room. Kravitz has no issue fighting harder and dirtier than them. He’s going to have to kill them if he wants to see the Soldier again and he’s —

“Lup?”

Kravitz freezes in place, glancing at the hallway. The Soldier is standing there, dressed in fleece pajama pants covered with tiny illustrations of Captain America’s shield and an oversized hoodie. His hair is loose and mussed, like he’s been sleeping. He looks tired and confused and Kravitz is so _grateful_ to see him alive and unhurt.

“[_Love_,]” he says, in Russian, all the gratitude and relief he feels slipping into his voice despite himself. “[You’re okay.]”

He ignores Captain America and Iron Man, taking several quick steps towards the Soldier, but the Soldier takes a step back, looking alarmed. And not alarmed like he’s faking it — genuinely _worried_.

Kravitz holsters his gun and knife. “[Love, I came to get you,]” he says. “[We can go home.]”

The Soldier looks blank as he takes in Kravitz, then glances past him, at Captain America, a question plain on his face.

Kravitz feels dread creeping over him. The Soldier isn’t faking this. Kravitz can normally see right through him. The Soldier taught him emotions — how to have them and how to imitate them. Kravitz _knows_ what the Soldier looks like when he’s pretending and this isn’t that. 

“Get away from him,” Captain America says, voice stern. “The Hunger isn’t getting their hands on my brother.”

Kravitz’s gaze lingers on the Soldier for a moment more, and then he turns to glare at Captain America. “I don’t work for the _Hunger_,” he says, voice full of scorn at the idea — at the organization. Why would Kravitz go back to working for an organization like that after he and the Soldier worked so hard to destroy the Red Room? And more importantly — “What do you mean, _brother?_ The Soldier doesn’t have a sister.” 

Even as he says it, Kravitz knows it sounds stupid. He’s _looking_ at Captain America. She and the Soldier are the spitting image of each other.

“_Taako_, does,” Captain America says. “You’re lookin’ at her.”

“If you’re not working for the Hunger, who are you?” Hallwinter asks, opening up his faceplate and frowning at Kravitz. “Who sent you?”

“Nobody sent me,” Kravitz snaps. He doesn’t want this to be happening. He has an awful, creeping suspicion about why the Soldier is looking right through him now and he doesn’t want to be right. He saw the Soldier wiped, once, met him again after. He knows there are machines that can carve out someone’s memories and leave nothing but empty space behind — that take and take until the man Kravitz loves is a shadow of himself.

Kravitz and the Soldier have been inseparable since Kravitz was twenty-two years old. He refuses to believe the Soldier would forget him for good. He doesn’t want the Soldier to have forgotten him at all. “I’m his lover.”

_That_ shuts both Hallwinter and Captain America up, briefly. Hallwinter opens his mouth like he wants to ask questions, then closes it again. Captain America isn’t as restrained. “Bullshit,” she says. “Prove it.”

Kravitz wants to tell Captain America to go fuck herself and shoot her between her smug eyes, but if she _is_ the Soldier’s sister, the Soldier probably wouldn’t be very happy about Kravitz murdering her. He grits his teeth, pulling out his phone instead of his gun.

“Are you calling for backup?” Captain America asks, as Kravitz opens his photo folder. “JARVIS —”

Kravitz finds the video he was looking for a presses play, holding out his phone so the screen is facing Captain America.

In the video, the Soldier is making pancakes in their kitchen. He’s barefoot, wearing low-slung pajama pants and one of Kravitz’s t-shirts. “Are you filming?” he asks. “Okay, watch this!”

The Soldier attempts to flip the pancakes in the pan, but flicks his wrist too hard — the pancakes fly up and hits the ceiling. One clings for a moment before falling onto the stove — the other sticks.

In the video, Kravitz laughs as the Soldier swears and waves a hand, squawking at Kravitz to _turn it off, turn it off!_

The video ends there, and Kravitz stares Captain America down, daring her to say _anything_ about how he’s not the Soldier’s lover. It’s been decades. Fuck. Her.

“Okay,” says the Soldier behind him, and Kravitz turns to look at him, hopeful, but the Soldier is just rubbing at his temples, looking pained. “I’m gonna go lie down for a bit. My brain hurts.”

Kravitz can remember the last time the Soldier complained about headaches. He remembers petting the Soldier’s hair, holding him while he slept and staying awake himself so he could soothe the Soldier through those long nights.

He remembers the Soldier calling out a name in his sleep, waking up with tears on his face and no memory of why he was crying.

Kravitz watches the careful way the Soldier holds his head and recognizes it — what was done to him. He looks at Captain America — Lup — and Barry Hallwinter, feeling defeated. The Soldier doesn’t _remember_ him. “They wiped him again, didn’t they?”

Lup looks surprised — and still suspicious — but she nods, once. “They took his memories,” she says. “And if you’re who you say you are you’re going to stop trying to murder me and Barry because if what you say is true, Taako’d _never_ let me hear the end of it if I killed his boyfriend.”

#

Kravitz waits with Hallwinter while Captain American helps the Soldier — suspicious, confused, wincing from his sudden migraine — to bed. They disappear together into the depths of the tower and Kravitz takes a seat on the couch. Hallwinter leaves his faceplate up, but his armour on — smart.

“You can fake a lot of things with computers,” Hallwinter says, after a few painfully awkward minutes of silence. “Not that it wasn’t a convincing video, but Taako’s vulnerable right now and the Hunger’s got a lot of motivation to get him back. Captain America’s brother? That’s good blackmail material, even if you’re _not_ the Hunger. So, you know, if you _are_ Taako’s boyfriend, I’m sure you’ll appreciate us being cautious.”

Kravitz doesn’t, even if he can see Hallwinter’s point. It makes sense to be suspicious. The Winter Soldier is a valuable asset to any capable handler. Kravitz will put a bullet in the brain of anyone who thinks they can _handle_ his partner.

Kravitz and the Soldier don’t keep location data on their phones for more than a few hours. The metadata attached to their photos and videos is automatically scrubbed squeaky clean every night. There’s the tracker in the Soldier’s shoulder to consider, but Kravitz doesn’t want to give away that he’s got a way of tracking the Soldier down if Hallwinter and Lup decide to move him someplace else. 

Kravitz unlocks his phone and opens the photos, tossing it to Hallwinter, who jumps like he’s worried Kravitz is throwing him a bomb.

“That — don’t throw things!” Hallwinter says, fumbling to catch the phone. “I could have shot you!”

“No,” says Kravitz. “You really couldn’t have. Look at my photos and tell me they’re fakes.”

Hallwinter glances down at the phone in his hand, then starts scrolling. Kravitz knows what he’s looking at because they’re mostly photos of the Soldier or himself and the Soldier together or of their life together — the beach that stretches out behind their house, the kitchen the Soldier loves so much, the meals that the Soldier cooks for them. Kravitz’s photos are startling domestic for a professional assassin and Kravitz couldn’t be happier about it. He and the _Soldier_ couldn’t be happier.

Kravitz just needs to keep telling himself the Soldier will remember him soon.

“Okay, Taako’s asleep,” Lup says, walking back into the room. She’s still got her shield in hand. “Start talking.”

“I don’t know what more you need me to say.” Kravitz gestures at Hallwinter. “He has my phone. You can look at it yourself. The Soldier and I have been together for a long time. I don’t know where the Hunger found the equipment they used to wipe him. I thought we destroyed it all.”

“You keep calling him the Soldier,” Lup says, accusatory. “Like he’s a _tool_ and not a person. He has a name.”

Kravitz refrains from rolling his eyes. If the Soldier really _is_ Taako — and it seems likely that he is, even Kravitz has to admit that now — then he’s going to have to get used to being around Lup. He needs to try not to make enemies here. “_Taako_ and I have been together for a long time,” he says. “I thought we destroyed the machines they used to wipe his mind.”

Lup takes Kravitz’s phone from Barry, flipping through his photos. “How long?” she asks, after a moment. “You lost Taako to the Hunger and just _happened_ to find him the day after we finally got him back here? Awfully convenient.”

“We’ve been together since the sixties, when we escaped the Red Room together,” Kravitz says. “Taako decided he’d accept a job assassinating the Director of SHIELD, even though I warned him about taking another job in America. Then he missed his check-in and I was on my way to come get him when I turned on the television and the sky was falling in D.C.”

“Wait,” says Hallwinter, after a long moment of silence. “Are you… are you saying the Hunger has only had Taako for a few _days?_”

They _have_ Kravitz’s phone. They should be able to work that out for themselves. “That is what I’m saying, yes.”

“Taako took a _job_ assassinating Lucretia?” Lup asks, incredulous. “What the _fuck_, Taako? You’re a _hit man?_”

“That’s underplaying our skill set somewhat,” Kravitz says. “But essentially, yes.”

“What,” Lup repeats, “the fuck.”

“Hang on — you said Red Room?” Hallwinter is studying Kravitz more closely now — like maybe he’s picked up on some of the same stuff in the Hunger data drop that Kravitz did. “JARVIS, cross-reference Red Room with what we’ve found about Taako in the data drop.”

“Already on it, sir,” says a cheery, English-accented voice from all around them. Kravitz keeps a firm hold on the instinct to jump. Of _course_ Hallwinter’s security system can talk back to him. Kravitz hates that. “I’ve come across some interesting files.”

A projector in the ceiling flickers to life — of course it does — and images made from blue holo-light appear in the air in front of the three of them. Kravitz recognizes some from his own, more low-tech searches: his Red Room file, notes about the Reaper program, a notice about the shuttering of the Red Room and the subsequent disappearance of everyone involved. Others are new: sightings of the Winter Soldier, plans to get him back, a blurry photograph of the Soldier as he leaps over the edge of a roof, a second figure only just visible beside him — Kravitz recognizes the black silhouette next to the Soldier’s more striking presence as himself, a shadow following the Soldier from mission to mission.

“Well,” says Hallwinter, after a moment. “This _does_ explain the weird lack of Taako in most of the Hunger’s files. I just thought they got smarter about what they wrote down.”

Lup still doesn’t look convinced. Lup doesn’t look like she _wants_ to believe the evidence in front of her that says Kravitz isn’t lying. “Okay, but that wasn’t _Taako_ though — that was the Winter Soldier. They’re different people. Taako is — he’s confused and he’s hurt, but he’s himself again. He’s getting his memories back.”

“He is,” Hallwinter agrees, glancing at Kravitz. “Whatever technology they used to wipe his memories isn’t sticking this time. Which means he’ll probably remember you as well. Are you, uh, planning on staying in New York for a while?”

Kravitz represses the urge to snap at Hallwinter that of _course_ he’s staying. He doesn’t know what they’re not getting about he and the Soldier being together for _decades_, but Kravitz isn’t going anywhere. The Soldier — Taako — is the love of his life. They would do _anything_ for each other. He can handle being nice to Captain America and Iron Man for a little while. 

“I’m not leaving him.”

“Okay.” Hallwinter looks at Lup and raises his eyebrows. She glances at Kravitz, then gives her head a firm shake _no_, which Hallwinter responds to by raising his eyebrows further.

Lup sighs, her shoulders slumping, and turns to Kravitz. “You can stay here,” she says. “Barry’s got lots of room, since you’re sticking around. That way you don’t have to break in through the roof next time.”

“It was impressive though,” Hallwinter says. “Do, uh, _you_ have a name? Or are you like Taako?”

Kravitz will take this to mean neither of them can read Russian, since his file is right there, hovering in the air in front of them. “I’m a Reaper,” he says. “_The_ Reaper.” Kravitz pauses, then steps forward and holds out a hand to Barry. “But you can call me Kravitz.”

#

Hallwinter shows Kravitz to a room — a suite — which seems surprisingly… open. Kravitz just broke into his home via the roof. He half-expected to be led to a cell, but Hallwinter hasn’t asked him to surrender his weapons and the lock on the door looks like it operates from the inside.

Maybe being a superhero makes you cocky. Or trusting. Maybe Hallwinter just has that much faith in his AI security system.

Or maybe Hallwinter genuinely believes everything Kravitz has told him. It has the benefit of being the truth, but _Kravitz_ wouldn’t trust anyone who showed up at his and the Soldier’s house out of the blue, no matter how true their story seemed — _especially_ if that person showed up trying to kill them.

The room, besides not being a prison cell, is clean and modern. It has a small kitchen with stainless steel appliances — not as nice as the ones the Soldier bought for their house, but expensive. The floors are hardwood and the furniture is sleek black leather. It has the same generic, hotel room feel as the common room — professionally decorated and beautiful, but cold. 

“I, uh, I can loan you some clothes,” Hallwinter says, standing awkwardly in the doorway. “I’m guessing you won’t want to leave Taako alone with us to go get your things?”

Kravitz isn’t sure Captain America won’t come and slit his throat in his sleep. He’s sure as _hell_ not going to leave the tower and let himself be locked out. He has no doubt he’d be able to get back in, but it would be a pain. Hallwinter’s bound to tighten up his roof access now.

“I’m staying, yes,” he confirms. “I’ll —” Kravitz stops before he can tell Hallwinter he’ll just borrow the Soldier’s clothes because no, he won’t, will he? The Soldier doesn’t remember him. The Soldier looked like he was borrowing pajamas from Captain America.

Kravitz squeezes his left hand into a fist, out of Hallwinter’s line of sight, and digs his nails into his palm. He’s fine. This is going to be fine. If the Soldier is remembering things from before he was the Soldier, eventually he’ll _have_ to remember Kravitz. After everything they’ve been through together, how could he not? Maybe this time he’ll even remember training Kravitz when he was younger.

Kravitz is going to have to stick close to make sure the Soldier remembers soon. The ship might have sailed with Lup, but he’s going to have to at _least_ get along with Hallwinter if he wants to make this work.

He smiles at Hallwinter, pulling from the Soldier’s infiltration lessons to make himself appear calmer than he feels, to not let it show that Kravitz wants to hunt down every asshole who thinks they have the right to control the Soldier. Taako. Whatever name the Soldier chooses to go by. They can hunt them down together, later. For now, Kravitz needs to play nice with the Soldier’s new friends. “Thank you,” he says. “I’d appreciate that.”

If Hallwinter doubts the sincerity of Kravitz’s smile, he doesn’t let it show.

#

Kravitz waits a day and a half, but the Soldier doesn’t come looking for him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he’d still been hoping that this was a ruse — that the Soldier would come into his room in the middle of the night and apologize for ignoring him, that he’d explain he had a plan and Kravitz just needed to trust him and play along.

The Soldier is the _only_ person Kravitz trusts. 

Kravitz lurks around the tower like a ghost. He doubts Lup and Hallwinter are going to shrug off Kravitz trying to kill them that easily — although Hallwinter seems to be trying — and the Soldier is…

The Soldier barely leaves the apartment he shares with Lup. When Kravitz sees him outside of it, he’s usually sleeping. It’s hell. Kravitz is in a strange place without his partner and he wants to climb out of his skin because he can _feel_ all the cameras Hallwinter’s got set up, watching his every move. Fair, he guesses, since he did try to kill everyone but Taako, but it puts a damper on Kravitz’s ability to approach the Soldier without being observed.

Midway through the second day without any acknowledgement, Kravitz gives up. He’s used to a life where he and the Soldier orbit each other. Being in the same building at him and being _ignored_ is untenable.

Kravitz waits for Lup to leave for the gym and then slips out of his apartment and into hers.

Taako is sleeping on the couch, bundled up in a cocoon of blankets, a hood pulled up over his hair, covering half his face. Kravitz misses him so much his chest aches with it.

He takes a step towards Taako, planning on nudging him away so they can talk, and Taako jerks in his sleep, suddenly alert and staring at Kravitz with wide, wild eyes. “_Jesus_,” says Taako, shrinking back, away from him. “Are you _watching me sleep_? What the _fuck_, my dude.”

Taako sounds exactly like the Soldier, only if the Soldier caught Kravitz watching him sleep he’d _tease_ him, but he wouldn’t sound so offended. The Soldier liked being the center of Kravitz’s attention.

“I’m not — I came to speak with you,” he says. “We haven’t gotten a chance to talk.”

Taako glances at the door behind Kravitz. “Sure. And you just happened to wait until Lup wasn’t here to come say hi. Cool. Not creepy at all. Definitely not what a Hunger agent would do if they were planning on, I don’t know, trying to flip me on my sister and use me as a weapon again.” Taako looks back at Kravitz, his eyes cold and full of distrust. “You’ve got a handsome face, my man, but cha’boy wasn’t born yesterday.”

The fact that Kravitz can see the shape of the logic behind what Taako is saying somehow makes it worse. “I’m not going to hurt you, Taako. You have to —”

“I don’t _have_ to do anything,” Taako says, raising his voice. He sounds just this side of hysterical and maybe Kravitz should have thought this through. Maybe he should have realized it wouldn’t go well. He’d been _convinced_ Taako would remember him though. How could he _not_ remember? “Nothing except asking Barry’s weird robot butler to get Lup for me. I don’t know how they do things in Russia, but in America we don’t watch strangers sleep and pretend like it’s a cool and normal thing to do.”

“Love, please. I —”

“Nope!” says Taako, actually getting up, to his feet now. “Nope, none of that!”

“Taako!” Lup bursts through the apartment door, still dressed in workout gear, looking about five seconds away from hitting Kravitz again. “T, you good? Kravitz, what the fuck?”

“I’m good,” Taako says, looking anything but. He looks _spooked_. He looks like Kravitz _scares_ him. “All good here, but maybe you should stick around for a bit?”

“I’m leaving,” says Kravitz, not bothering to hide how resigned he feels. “I’m sorry. My intention wasn’t to startle you.”

“Funny way of showing it,” Taako says, staring him down. “Bye Kravitz.”

Lup says nothing, hovering by the door, but the look on her face tells Kravitz that she’ll help him leave if he doesn’t do it on his own.

Kravitz doesn’t know how to fix this. He just wanted to talk. To figure out what about Taako was different and what was the same. He and the Soldier have a _life_ together and nobody in the tower seems to understand that — how could they? Even if they knew enough Russian to read the Red Room files, they wouldn’t see the full picture — the missions he and the Soldier were sent on together. The way the drifted closer. The Soldier’s hands on Kravitz’s body. Kravitz running his fingers through the Soldier’s long hair. The Soldier, speaking wistfully about beaches and going someplace warm. Kravitz, making a last minute decision — letting his instincts guide him and saying _no_, stepping up to stop their handlers from wiping the Soldier’s memories again.

Escaping with the Soldier. Building a life with him. Their house on the beach. None of it matters, because Kravitz wasn’t there to stop them from taking the Soldier’s memories this time.

“Bye Taako,” Kravitz says. The name is still strange in his mouth, but it’s not bad. The Soldier having a real name is good. Eventually everything else will be better too. It _has_ to be. 

Kravitz leaves Taako and Lup’s apartment. The door closes behind him and Kravitz hears the deadbolt slide into place.

He and the Soldier escaped hell together. Kravitz is willing to fight to get him back — has _always_ been willing to fight for him. He just has to be willing to wait too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked the second instalment of the niche au of au, please leave a comment and a kudos!
> 
> You can find me over on tumblr where I’m @marywhal and always willing to talk about this verse and the aus of it!


	3. Chapter 3

Kravitz doesn’t know how to act around the Soldier anymore. He’s spent most of his life happily orbiting him, but now the Soldier… doesn’t remember Kravitz. The Soldier looks at him like he’s curious, but he’s still wary, and obviously alarmed any time Kravitz talks too much about their past. If Kravitz wasn’t worried about Lup maybe not letting him back _in_, he’d leave Hallwinter Tower and go for a walk, but Kravitz isn’t Lup’s brother and she’s being far less understanding about him jumping her than she was about the Soldier putting her in the hospital.

Not the Soldier. Taako. Kravitz has to get used to calling him by his name.

Lup disliking him is fair, he guesses, because Kravitz doesn’t like her much either. When Taako’s awake, he spends all his time with his sister, listening to her talk about their childhood and the war, leaning towards her like he’s a flower and she’s the sun. Kravitz is sleeping alone in enemy territory. He’s doing his best to get Taako’s attention when he can — whenever Taako’s not asleep and Lup’s not harassing him. 

Kravitz is doing his best not to reveal the deep ache in his chest — the longing for Taako to reach out and _touch_ him again. To hold his hand or touch his cheek or his hair or to smile at him and call him _baby_. Kravitz is doing his best, but he suspects the facade is starting to crack around the edges, because Taako seems more wary of him now than when he first showed up at the tower, and Kravitz is pretty sure it’s because he seems desperate. Needy. Like he’s in love with a man who barely knows he exists.

There’s a small part of Kravitz that wants to stomp his foot and complain that it’s not _fair_, but since when has life been fair? Death is fair. Death is equal for everyone. Life is fickle and unkind and Kravitz needs to suck it up and hope that Taako’s memories of him come back the way Taako’s memories of Lup are coming back. 

They have to. It’s been _decades_.

If in the meantime, Kravitz has to sit all alone and flip through old photos of him and Taako together on their beach, in their house, and watch videos of Taako smiling at him, teasing him for filming Taako in little, domestic moments, that’s fine. At least Kravitz has some proof that Taako loves him. Sitting around while Taako avoids spending time with him would be too hard otherwise.

It’s been a week since he got to the tower. Lup and Barry have both admitted that Kravitz is telling the truth about who he is. Taako still hasn’t remembered him in the slightest.

“Are you waiting for Taako?” Lup asks, behind him, and Kravitz is glad he’s very good at controlling his reactions or he’d have jumped out of his skin.

He turns to look at her, face blank. “I don’t know what you mean,” he says, like he’s not sitting on the far end of Taako’s favourite napping couch, in front of the television. Kravitz _does _find it comforting that Taako still likes to watch Cutthroat Kitchen. At least he hasn’t changed that much. “This is a common area.”

“Sure,” says Lup, giving Kravitz an amused look. “You’re totally not sitting here hoping Taako comes out and naps near you.”

Kravitz just glares at her in response. She pulled apart the American intelligence apparatus to get Taako to pay attention to her again. Like _she_ can talk. “Can I help you with something?”

Lup rolls her eyes and hops over the back of the low couch, sitting next to Kravitz. “No,” she says, “but I can help _you_. You’re coming on too strong. You called yourself Taako’s lover and now you follow him around whenever he’s not with someone else. You spend all your time_ staring_ at him. You’re freaking him out, ghost rider.”

“I _know_!” Kravitz snaps, and then quickly reels himself in, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. “I know,” he repeats, calmer now. “I’m doing my best, but Taako and I have been together a very long time. This isn’t our house, or our life, and I’m still wrapping my head around the Winter Soldier being an American war hero.”

Lup snorts. “_I’m _still wrapping my head around Taako being a war hero,” she says. “That’s not one you’re going to come to terms within a day.” She tilts her head, studying Kravitz then glancing down at the phone in his hand. The screen is asleep now, but she probably knows he’s been looking at photos of Taako. 

“What’s it like?” she asks. “Your house? I’m still trying to — I was _so_ sure Taako’d been kept prisoner by Hunger for over half a century. Finding out he shacked up with a hot boy for most of the time I was in the ice is… I mean, it’s _good_, but it’s also a surprise.”

Kravitz unlocks his phone, scrolling through photos until he finds one that shows the exterior of their house. Small, well-built, and colourful — sitting above a stretch of white sand. “It’s beautiful,” he says. “When we were in the Red Room the Soldier — Taako — talked about taking a vacation, going to the beach. He was always cold. His arm is a heat sink so he feels the cold more than most people do. We moved around a lot the first twenty years or so, but once we were sure everyone who was part of the Red Room was dead and we’d saved enough money, we started looking for somewhere to live. The beach made sense.”

Lup’s staring at the house on his phone like she didn’t think he and Taako would live someplace so nice. Kravitz can’t help feeling smug. Their house is beautiful, inside and out. 

“Holy shit,” she says. “You’re like… _on_ the beach.”

“It’s a beach house,” Kravitz agrees. “That’s our beach.” He scrolls through a few more photos, while Lup digests the fact that her brother _owns_ a beach, landing on a photo of Taako cooking in their kitchen. It shows the room itself — high end appliances, impeccable granite countertops, large island — in all its glory. “This is Taako’s kitchen.”

“What the _fuck_,” says Lup. “We would have _killed_ for a kitchen like that as kids.”

Kravitz should leave the comment alone, but he can’t help himself. “Taako killed for it as an adult instead.”

Lup’s friendly demeanor shuts down immediately. “He was brainwashed into thinking he was only good for one thing,” she says. “It’s not his fault.”

Kravitz locks his screen again. “We’re both very good at our job,” he says. “Taako’s the best assassin in the world.”

“_Was_ the best,” says Lup. “He’s done with that now.”

“You can’t make that decision _for_ him.” Kravitz doesn’t like the way Lup talks about Taako like she thinks she knows him best. Kravitz has _fifty years_ with the Soldier. He and Taako know each other better than anyone else. They’re partners — a team. If Taako doesn’t want them to be assassins anymore, it’s a decision they’d make together, without Lup’s input.

“I don’t need to. I know him,” Lup says. “He’s not going to want to do it anymore. Maybe he’ll want to be a superhero. Maybe he’ll just want to sit and relax for a bit.” Lup shrugs. “He might even want to stay in New York.”

Kravitz actually laughs at that — he can’t help it. There’s no way in _hell_ Taako won’t want to go home. “If you’re trying to put me off, that’s not the way to do it,” he says. “I love him. I _know_ him! I’m not leaving.”

“You’re —”

Someone coughs behind them. Lup and Kravitz turn as one, to glare at Barry Hallwinter, standing awkwardly in the entranceway into the common area. “Uh, so, you two are pretty much yelling at this point,” he says. “JARVIS thought I should maybe step in?”

“We’re not yelling,” Lup says, voice noticeably quieter than it had been a moment before. Maybe they _were_ yelling — Kravitz didn’t notice. “We’re just… having a discussion.”

“A loud discussion.” Barry rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “Look, it’s none of my business, and Lup, I love you, but you both need to chill out. Fighting isn’t going to endear Taako to _either_ of you. If you need to get out your aggression, go hit something in the gym.”

Go hit something in the gym.

Kravitz and Lup’s eyes meet and Kravitz can tell she’s thinking the same thing he is — sparring would be a sanctioned reason to punch each other in the face.

“Babe,” Lup says. “You’re _brilliant_.” She bounces to her feet, then turns to look at Kravitz, a wicked grin on her face. “How about it, grim? Feel like a good, old fashioned sparring match?”

Kravitz smirks back at her, ignoring Barry protesting that that’s _not what he meant, Lup!_ “Oh yes,” he says. “You read my mind.”

#

“I’m not going to go easy on you just because you’re supposedly dating my brother,” Lup says, stretching on the opposite end of the gym. Kravitz is stretching too, taking in the way Lup moves and mentally rehashing their fight. Lup doesn’t have her shield with her this time, but he doesn’t have guns or a knife. He doesn’t actually want to kill Taako’s sister, but he _is_ looking forward to getting out all the pent up emotions he’s feeling. He doesn’t feel secure enough to express them here, but Lup’s a good match for him. She’s not as well-trained, but she’s enhanced like the Soldier is enhanced — it puts them on more equal footing.

Kravitz, with all his experience sparring with Taako, is pretty sure he has the upper hand, but that’s fine. It’s going to be fun either way.

He moves to the middle of the padded floor, shifting his weight to the balls of his bare feet. “There’s no need. I wouldn’t want to have an unfair advantage.”

Lup rolls her eyes and brings her fists up to protect her jaw, elbows in. She fights like a boxer, not a martial artist. Makes sense considering the era she was trained in and the fact that the shield is her usual weapon of choice. She needs a lot of upper body strength to wield it like she does, a quick mind to calculate angles when she’s bouncing it off buildings like a rubber ball. The fact Lup hasn’t lost a finger to the shield is enough proof that she’s sharp. 

Impulsive though. Kravitz hangs back and waits. Lup makes the first move — a quick jab to test his defenses, easy to dance away from. There aren’t hours and hours of footage of him fighting online, like there are for Lup — she’s fought him once before, but she still doesn’t know exactly what she’s dealing with. It’s smart of her to test him out too, to take it slow.

Kravitz shifts as Lup circles him, focusing on the way she shifts her weight, the tension in her muscles. She ducks in to strike at him again and Kravitz brings the side of his hand down on the inside of her elbow, deflecting the blow as he kicks at her left knee, sending her stumbling sideways — it’s enough to throw her off balance, but only for a moment. She recovers fast, bringing her other arm up against his throat, hard. Kravitz backs off, fighting to keep a grin off his face. He’s _missed_ sparring.

There’s a smile playing on the corner of Lup’s mouth as she shakes out her arm. “Okay, enough dancing around,” she says. “Don’t you just wanna go apeshit?”

Normally Kravitz would consider an invitation from someone who doesn’t like him very much to _go apeshit_ in a fight a trap, but the tone of Lup’s voice heavily implies she would _love_ to go apeshit right now. She’s sitting on a lot of revelations about Taako too. She and Kravitz don’t get along, but they don’t _need_ to get along to beat each other up. Beath each other up a _little_. A healthy amount of beating up.

Kravitz lets himself smile. “I would _love_ to.”

Lup’s in his face again a moment later, her fist hitting him in the ribs. Kravitz knows she’s pulling her punches, but it’s still a solid blow. He ignores the bright flare of pain, keeping close range as grabs her wrist before she can land another blow, twisting and throwing her over his shoulder, onto the mat. Kravitz moves with Lup to cushion the fall, but she still looks surprised to find herself on her back.

Kravitz raises an eyebrow at her, smirking, and lets her go, backing up to give her room to recover. Lup rolls back onto her feet, grinning, and comes at him again, blocking a strike and kicking at Kravitz’s knee. He has to step back to avoid it, leaving himself open for another kick to his solar plexus that leaves him off-balance and stumbling. Lup keeps on him, hooking her leg around his knee and slamming the flat of her hand into his chest, pushing him back onto the floor — hard.

Kravitz doesn’t bother waiting to see if Lup will let him recover. He wraps his legs around her ankle and yanks her down too. Lup lets out a startled yelp — so she’d definitely been planning on letting him get up then — and hits the floor hard.

Kravitz sits up, looking down at Lup, who looks as surprised as she sounded, eyes wide, and can’t help the laugh that escapes him. Lup blinks, frowning at him for about half a second before she gives in and laughs too, draping an arm over her face. “God,” she says, between giggles. “I’m just casually trying to beat up my brother’s boyfriend, huh? I didn’t even do this when he was dating a _gangster_.”

“He dated a gangster?” Kravitz hardly knows anything about Taako life _before_ — the stuff he’s read about Lup and Taako during World War Two is all second or third hand knowledge. Historians talk about the Soldier in the past tense, with all the reverence that benefits a martyr and none of the humanity that tells you about the person he was. Is. Has always been.

“He has the _worst_ taste in men.” Lup drops her arm, sitting up to face Kravitz properly. “Taako’s type is dangerous guys who are nice to Taako _specifically_. No offense.”

Kravitz considers this for a moment, then shrugs. “No, that sounds about right,” he agrees. “Tell me about the gangster.”

#

Taako wanders into Barry’s lab to the sight of Lup and Kravitz beating each other up on Barry’s big projector screen. He pauses in the doorway, frowning. Kravitz kind of freaks him out, honestly — he has _no_ memories of the dude — but Lup and Barry are thoroughly convinced by the contents of his phone and he _is_ hot, so Taako’s just been avoiding him and calling it a day. They’re not worried, and he doesn’t have the brainspace to be.

Still. “Should you be letting them do that?”

Barry jumps in his seat, twisting to look at Taako with a hand over the reactor core in his chest. “_Jesus_, bud,” he says. “Don’t sneak up on me like that. They’re okay for now. If things get out of hand I’ll have JARVIS tell Lup she’s needed in the lab, but I _think_ this is them getting along.”

Taako’s memories are all fuzzy around the edges still, but he knows Lup. He remembers what she’s like, vaguely. “That tracks,” he says, after a beat. “Are we gonna look at my arm today or is watching them fight the priority right now?”

“I’ll leave the video feed going while we work,” Barry says, pushing his rolling stool over to a steel workbench in the middle of the room. “They talked about you a bit earlier. Then they, uh, went back to this.”

Taako doesn’t know how he feels about Kravitz and Lup talking about him behind his back. Kravitz doesn’t crowd Taako or talk to him like he expects Taako to remember him — not since the first time — but he’s… _around_. He’s around and Taako’s brain can’t help zeroing in on him whenever they’re in the same room, a constant reminder that Kravitz is _present_. Taako would love to turn off the mental radar he has for this _one dude_, but he doesn’t know how. He’s just stuck like this — acutely aware of a stranger who’s maybe a Hunger spy, maybe his boyfriend, thoroughly focused on Kravitz’s whole everything whenever Kravitz is in the room.

“And you’re _sure_ he’s not gonna try and kill Lup again?” Taako shrugs off his hoodie and takes a seat across from Barry, propping his arm up on the workbench. It’s in pretty good shape now, but when he first came back to the tower with half-formed memories of his sister it had been nonfunctional — a casualty of the fight between him and Lup on the falling helicarrier. Taako doesn’t know when the Hunger taught him to do maintenance on himself, but between him and Barry they have it working pretty smoothly now. 

Some hidden memory lurking in the back of Taako’s brain says it could be working _better_ than this, though, and so — digging around inside it again.

“You know, I could probably make a lighter version of this,” Barry says, as Taako opens the panels on his arm using a small pry bar. “If we did another scan…”

Taako’s shaking his head no before he really processes his knee-jerk rejection of the idea. “Nope,” he says. “Not happening, Barold. This one has lasted me… however long it’s lasted me and I’m _good_ to keep it on my body. No offense. I did one scan so Merle could check my brain. That’s all you’re getting from me.”

“Okay, I’ll table scanning it for now,” Barry promises, holding up a hand in surrender. “What do you think we need to tweak this time?”

“Servos are making a weird sound. I think there’s still river grit in there,” Taako says, grimacing. He doesn’t know _how_ he knows it’s the servos, but he does, and so far his knowledge of the inner workings of his arm hasn’t steered them wrong.

He wonders if it’s something Kravitz knows about. Maybe, if he’s telling the truth about them knowing each other. Taako’s been keeping the working-on-the-arm and letting a magic doctor look at his brain thing on the downlow though. If Kravitz _is_ just a really hot Hunger plant, he doesn’t need to be broadcasting his weaknesses.

He glances up at the screen again as Barry rolls across the lab to look for a can of air to help clean out his arm. The video is muted, but Lup and Kravitz are both smiling as she throws him across the gym. He lands well, rolling into a crouch and coming up facing her. Kravitz, the murdery part of Taako’s brain notes, is _exceptionally_ well-trained.

Watching him for too long makes Taako’s head hurt, so he looks away. It’s possible Kravitz is telling the truth. It’s also possible he’s some kind of sleeper agent sent to kill them. Taako will deal with whichever is the truth when it happens. For now, he’s got _Taako_ things to worry about — things like making sure his arm is super-functional, in case there’s some secret-maybe-boyfriend bullshit about to go down.

Barry pushes himself back over to the table, holding a can of compressed air. “You wanna do this? You know better than I do what servos you need to hit.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be a billionaire tech genius?” Taako takes the can from Barry, pushing Kravitz and his handsome face and confusing backstory out of his mind. “My sister doesn’t deserve anything less than a billionaire tech genius.” He pauses. “Except maybe a billionaire tech genius who divests himself from the moral bankruptcy of being a billionaire in the first place.”

Barry laughs. “It helps the genius angle when you’re the one who designed most of the equipment you use. And I don’t know Taako — I’ve seen some pretty convincing beach house photos that make me think you’re not exactly hurting for cash.”

“_Alleged_ beach house photos.” Taako’s been avoiding thinking about _that_ too. It all sounds like a wild fantasy to him — a fancy house on the beach with a beautiful boyfriend. That’s got _trap_ written all over it. “I don’t remember a thing.”

“Sure, but, you know.” Barry gestures at Taako’s head. “We know your memory’s, uh, a little spotty, bud.”

Taako pulls a face, turning his full attention to his open arm. “New subject,” he says. “We’re not talking about my Swiss cheese brain right now, Barold.”

“Yeah, of course,” Barry agrees, after a beat. He hesitates as Taako blasts the inside of his arm with a few quick pulses of air. “But, uh, did you _really_ date a gangster before the war?”

Taako looks up at Barry, frowning, because he does _not_ want to talk about memories he doesn’t have anymore, thanks, except the question does twig something in the back of his brain. He pauses, cocking his head to the side. “Huh,” he says. “I think his name was Darwin.”

#

It gets easier. Not _easy_, Kravitz wouldn’t go that far, but eas_ier_. Lup gives him a sort-of-accidental black eye and he manages to throw her a couple times and it settles some of the tension between them. It gives both of them an outlet, at least. They wake up early and work out/spar together. They fall into a rhythm, a solid two weeks of the two of them beating each other up first thing in the morning. It’s kind of like friendship. Kravitz thinks Lup might even like him now.

“You’re going to overwork the batter,” Taako says, watching Lup mix up pancakes. Kravitz feels very out of place, but Lup dragged him back to her and Taako’s apartment after their sparring session and leaving before he eats will be weirder than lurking in the background.

“I’m _not_,” says Lup. “Do _you_ want to take over?” She stops mixing, pushing the bowl and spatula in Taako’s direction. “By all means, _chef_.”

Taako shoots her a dirty look, pushing the bowl back. “I’m just giving you some friendly advice, not trying to do _chores_. I have brain damage, Lup.”

“I will give you _more_ brain damage.”

Taako continues glaring at Lup for a moment and then breaks, laughing and getting to his feet. “Okay, _fine_. Since obviously you can’t be trusted with this, I’ll do it. Barold, set the table.”

“Kravitz can help,” says Lup, because apparently beating him up in the gym wasn’t the only trial she wants to put Kravitz through today. She’s going to call attention to the fact that he’s here. “Grab him some plates, babe.”

“Busy,” says Taako, making a show of turning on the stove.

“I’m pretty sure she was talking about me, bud,” says Barry.

“No, I meant Taako.” Lup grins at Taako, unrepentant in the face of him sticking his tongue out at her. “He’s watched me cook for him long enough.”

Kravitz gets to his feet because getting the plates himself is probably the better part of valor here. “I can get them,” he says. “It’s no trouble.”

Taako sets down the bowl of batter, shaking his head. “It’s _fine_. Lup’s bullying me, her _only_ brother, but it’s fine.” He opens a cupboard, pulling out a stack of mismatched plates and turning to Kravitz, holding them out. “I want the green one. It matches—”

“Your eyes, I know,” Kravitz agrees, without thinking, reaching out to take the plates. It’s a joke he’s heard Taako make every time he wants to make sure he gets his favourite colour, as if Kravitz wouldn’t give it to him anyway.

Taako freezes for a moment, not letting go of the plates when Kravitz grabs them. Their fingers brush and Kravitz looks into Taako’s bottle-green eyes. Taako looks startled — uncertain — and Kravitz can’t help but hope there’s a spark of recognition there, something _finally_ falling into place for him because Kravitz has been dying, waiting, and—

“Sir,” says Hallwinter’s creepy robot butler, voice cutting in abruptly. “Captain. The Director is calling. I’m afraid there’s been an emergency.”

Lup and Barry are suddenly on high-alert. “An emergency?” Barry repeats. “What’s happening?”

“There is a robot attack by a known Hunger stronghold,” says JARVIS. “The Director seems to think it’s quite urgent.”

“Shit,” says Lup. “We can’t leave Taako alone.”

Kravitz glances at Taako, who looks like he’s one wrong word away from crushing the plates in his hands. “I can go,” he says. “If you need someone to fight them.”

That seems to blindside Lup. She looks at Kravitz, then Taako, and shakes her head. “No,” she says. “That’s — Taako are you cool to stay here with Kravitz?”

“What?” Taako lets go of the plates and Kravitz is suddenly very glad he didn’t let go earlier. “You’re going?”

“Maybe,” says Lup. “If it’s urgent. We need to talk to Lucretia first. But I can stay. If you want me to.”

Taako hesitates. Kravitz can see he wants to say no, can see how worried he is, but Kravitz can’t do anything but hold the plates in his hands and keep his mouth shut because Taako doesn’t know him anymore. He doesn’t _trust_ him. Kravitz isn’t even hurt by the obvious suspicion this time — Taako doesn’t remember him yet. It’s smart to be suspicious now, and Kravitz would be more useful fighting. Taako’s never going to agree to— 

Taako takes a deep, fortifying breath and shakes his head. “No,” he says, looking at Lup. “You should go. I can handle it.” He glances at Kravitz, poorly concealed concern in his eyes. “Kravitz will keep me company.”

#

Taako is feeling pretty fucking distressed. Lup and Barry are off on an emergency Avengers mission, he’s alone in the tower with Kravitz, and there’s _nothing_ about the sitch on tv yet, which means he’s stuck watching Cutthroat Kitchen and hoping Lup doesn’t get herself killed — except he can’t help feeling like he’s seen this episode before. He keeps getting weird moments of deja vu with _everything_ and he hates it. He just wants his fucking brain back please — after everything he’s been through it’s the least he deserves.

He doesn’t know what he’s going to _do_ with all his memories once he has them, but he’d like the opportunity to figure it out. For now, he’s stuck in Hallwinter Tower, frowning at an episode of tv he could _swear_ he’s seen before, with Kravitz sitting on the opposite end of the couch.

Kravitz, who is… weird. Suspiciously nice. Still not someone Taako has _any_ memories of. Apparently Taako’s boyfriend.

His boyfriend who pays too much attention to him. Taako knows Kravitz probably isn’t lying, but he still doesn’t _remember_ any of it, so it doesn’t feel real. Kravitz is hot. Taako definitely _would_ date him, in other circumstances, but right now he’s a little more focused on trying to piece his brain back together and on Lup. The mystery assassin boyfriend thing Taako can deal with later, unless the past couple weeks have been a con and this is Kravitz springing his trap. Taako was — is? — a deadly assassin. He’s going to have to hope he can take Kravitz in a fight.

He’s pretty sure he can, which is good, because even though Kravitz offered to go fight the robots with Barry, Taako’s not gonna let his guard down.

If Kravitz _is_ his secret assassin boyfriend, Taako’s gotta give him credit for dedication. He’s put up with a lot of bullshit over the past couple weeks. Taako’s pretty sure he would have bounced by now if their roles were reverse.

At the very least, he would have requested the ability to choose what they watched.

Taako changes the channel. The deja vu is starting to hurt his head. “You think there’s anything about the robots they’re fighting on the news now?” he asks, glancing at Kravitz. “They’ve been gone a while, right?”

“Thirty minutes,” Kravitz says, without looking at his phone. Not weird at all. “We can look. It doesn’t hurt to—” Kravitz cuts himself off, eyes focused on the wall of windows on the far side of the common room. The only warning Taako gets that something is about to go _very_ wrong is Kravitz grabbing his shirt and yanking him down onto the couch cushions right before the windows _explode_ and men swarm into the living room.

A trap. Lup and Barry lured away, Taako left on his own, with Kravitz, who they didn’t know for certain they could trust. Who might be working for Hunger, lulling them into a false sense of security and then —

“Stay here,” Kravitz says, producing a knife from _nowhere_ and handing it to Taako. “Take that.”

“What are—?” Kravitz stands before Taako can finish his question, another knife appearing in his hand. Kravitz throws it, a practiced flick of the wrist.

There’s a wet thunk and a grunt of pain as the knife is buried in one of the people who just made a very bad life choice and then the room erupts into chaos.

Kravitz vaults the back of the couch like it’s nothing, a third knife in his hand. Someone fires a gun and Taako rolls off the couch and onto the floor on instinct — stay low, don’t get shot. His hands are shaking, which is — he’s the scariest assassin in the world. He’s the fucking _boogeyman_. He shouldn’t be cowering between the couch and the coffee table, except his body’s not listening to him. He can hear the sound of Kravitz fighting off the men attacking the tower and Taako’s not a fucking coward, but his mind if blank with panic. 

He doesn’t want to go back. He doesn’t want to forget Lup again.

If he doesn’t want to forget Lup, he’s gonna have to get off the fucking floor and _do_ something about it. He’s gonna have to fight.

Taako shifts his grip on the knife Kravitz gave him and raises into a crouch, risking a peek around the side of the couch. There are fifteen men in the room. Six are down, the remaining nine are all focused on Kravitz because Kravitz isn’t letting them think about anything else. Kravitz cuts a swathe through them, teeth gritted, all fury and spite as he fires a bullet into the back of one of the men on the floor, as he tries to get up, then draws his knife across the throat of another. 

Taako doesn’t know where Kravitz even_ got _the gun from. One of the attackers, maybe.

Kravitz is splattered with blood. He moves fast — almost _inhumanly_ fast. It occurs to Taako, watching Kravitz pistol whip a man armed with a semi-automatic rifle, that Kravitz has been _holding back_ in all his fights with Lup. He was being _nice_ to her. 

He was being nice because Kravitz, underneath all the murder, _is_ nice. He’s sweet and dedicated and the way he moves is so _familiar_. Taako can read him like a book — can tell what he’s going to do before he does it.

He sees the opening Kravitz leaves a moment before one of the Hunger operatives does — too late to warn him, enough time to feel panic rise in his chest as the operative takes the shot and the bullet strikes Kravitz’s side.

Kravitz stumbles, pressing a hand to his stomach. Taako can see the blood rapidly soaking through his shirt even though it’s black because Kravitz got _shot _and the last time that happened Taako — the last time that happened was seventeen years ago and Taako razed the base to the ground. He’d wanted to salt the fucking earth because this was _Kravitz_ and Taako couldn’t imagine a world where he didn’t have — a house, on the beach. A kitchen with granite countertops. Kravitz laughing at Taako making sure his lockscreen was always a picture of Taako. Kravitz lounging with him on floor pillows, petting his hair. Kravitz in their bed, kissing his neck. Kravitz looking at him all soft and happy and Taako thinking _yes_. Taako thinking he’d make sure he got to keep this — that Kravitz was _his_ and was _happy_ and knew he was loved, because nothing felt as good as basking in the love and care Kravitz showed him. Because Kravitz adored him and Taako wanted to be worthy of it. Because Kravitz was _his_ and nobody was gonna fucking _touch him._

Kravitz’s knees give out and he falls to the floor.

Taako gets to his feet, hands suddenly steady. “You’re gonna fuckin’ regret that,” he says, and jumps the idiot who was dumb enough to shoot his boyfriend.

Fighting is like a second nature. His body remembers, brain catching up a moment later. He snaps the gunman’s neck and snaps the strap on his rifle so he can steal it. Hunger sent fifteen men to take him. They should have sent an army because he’s the _Winter Soldie_r and they _shot Kravitz _and there’s no way in hell he’s gonna let any of them live after that.

“Soldier — _Sputnik. Nightshade. Ichor!_” one of the men shouts. 

The fingers on Taako’s metal hands spasm as they words spark across his brain like electricity but he’s not gonna let them have this. He’s not going to let them pull the same trick twice. Fuck that._ Fuck _them.

Taako shoots the dude in the fucking face. “Fuck you,” he says, blocking a flurry of bullets with his metal arm. He fires another shot, taking out a man who was trying to run away, down the hallway. “You tricked me once. It’s not fuckin’ happening again.”

One of the operatives tries to rush him, wielding a stick that looks like a cattle prod. Taako side steps him and buries Kravitz’s knife deep in between his ribs, so it reaches his heart. 

Five left. A close quarters fight. 

They’re all scared now — the triggers didn’t work and they know they can’t hold him, even if they win, and Taako’s betting someone told them not to kill him because none of them are trying to take him out.

Taako doesn’t have the same restrictions.

He kills them — quicker than he wants to, but Kravitz is bleeding out and he doesn’t have _time_ for this. Some Hunger foot soldiers aren’t important. Four shots fired, a snapped neck, and then Taako is as Kravitz’s side, reaching down to press a hand on top of Kravitz’s, trying to help stop the bleeding. “Krav — baby, talk to me.”

Kravitz’s eyes are glassy as he looks up at Taako, but he smiles. “You remember.”

“Was always gonna remember,” Taako promises, reaching up to touch Kravitz’s cheek, his hair. “Didn’t need to go out and get shot.”

“Sorry.” Kravitz closes his eyes and draws in a breath that rattles in a way Taako doesn’t like one bit. It sounds wet — like maybe the bullet damaged Kravitz’s lungs. Taako doesn’t know what to do. He’s not a doctor. Lup and Barry aren’t here to call for help. He _doesn’t know what to do._

“The Captain and Mr. Hallwinter have been informed of the ambush,” JARVIS says, out of nowhere, making Taako start. “I’ve contacted Dr. Highchurch on your behalf. He should be here any moment.”

“Oh thank Christ,” Taako says. “Krav, you hear that? Doctor’s coming. You’re gonna be fine, okay? Everything’s gonna be good. Just don’t… just try and stay awake for me.”

Kravitz blinks up at Taako like he’s not quite sure what’s happening. “Okay,” he says, leaning into Taako’s touch. “Sorry.”

“Don’t _apologize_.” Taako leans down and presses a kiss to Kravitz’s lip. He kisses back feebly, his whole body tense in Taako’s arms. “Save your breath. It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay.”

Kravitz hums faintly in acknowledgement. His blood feels so hot under Taako’s flesh hand. “Love you.”

“Love you too. Love you more if you stay awake,” Taako says, trying to ignore the fear singing through his veins — the rapid heartbeat in his chest. “Kravitz, please.”

“M’okay,” Kravitz mumbles. “Just tired.”

“You’re losing a lot of blood. I need you to stay awake for me. Okay? Okay, Krav? Just stay with me under the doctor gets here. It’s gonna be okay.” Kravitz doesn’t respond. He’s breathing, but he’s passed out from the blood loss, frighteningly still in Taako’s arms. Taako keeps applying pressure to the wound. 

“It’s going to be okay,” he repeats, to himself this time, because it _has_ to be. 

Taako remembers Kravitz now, and now that he does, he doesn’t know what he’d do without him.

#

Consciousness returns slowly. Kravitz registers the muffled sound of people talking first — then pain. His stomach is a bright flare of hurt and when he tries to move his hand to touch it he discovers that someone is holding on to him.

“I think he’s waking up,” says a familiar voice. “Krav — Bones, are you with me?”

Bones. Kravitz forces himself to open his eyes, blinking up at Taako — the Soldier — whose face is creased in concern as he leans over Kravitz. Taako smiles, touching Kravitz’s cheek. “Hi,” he says. “Hey, Krav… don’t move around too much, okay?”

Kravitz’s brain is still trying to catch up with his body. “Love?”

“Yeah, I’m here.” Taako presses a kiss to Kravitz’s forehead, lips surprisingly warm. “You got _shot_.”

That explains the pain, but Kravitz — oh, right. He remembers now: windows shattering, telling Taako to stay down, fighting the Hunger intruders who came to take back the Winter Soldier and wipe his memories clear again. He remembers getting shot. He remembers Taako killing everyone in the room, thinking they should _really_ leave someone alive to question.

He remembers that Taako remembers.

Kravitz squeezes Taako’s hand, lapsing into Russian. “[You _remember_ me. Love — _Taako_.]”

Taako laughs and kisses Kravitz’s forehead again. “It’s real good to hear you sayin’ my name, Krav, but don’t get too excited, okay? We’re doing a thing here.”

Kravitz takes a second to register the _we_ and that he should probably be more concerned about getting shot and then finally notices the third person in the room — a short, grey-haired man with a big beard. He smiles when Kravitz looks at him, like his hands aren’t both covered in blood and glowing. “Merle Highchurch,” he says. “Sorcerer Supreme and former medical doctor. Bullet’s out and I’m just taking care of some of the damage. Your left lung was real fucked up, kid. Could have drowned in that blood.”

Kravitz glances up at Taako, and then at the man who just introduced himself as both a _sorcerer_ and _former _doctor. “What?”

“Call me Merle,” Merle says. “This is probably gonna hurt.”

Kravitz opens his mouth to ask for _more context please_ and then Merle _presses down_, hands burning in a way that makes Kravitz gasp for breath and tighten his grip on Taako’s hand instinctively. His side _hurts_. It’s hot like nothing Kravitz has ever felt before, not even the serum the Red Room injected him with. It’s _agony_ and if he were less well-trained, he’d scream, but he bites back the noise he wants to make, hanging on to Taako instead as his vision whites out with pain.

And then the pain is gone — or not _gone_, but faded. A dull itch and an ache, nothing like the pain he was in when he woke up.

Merle pulls his hands back and shakes them twice. When he stops, they’re blood free and no longer glowing. “How’s that? Been a while since I tried healing anyone.”

Kravitz is more and more alarmed by… whoever this is, but the pain is gone and when he looks down at his side, there’s a lot of blood on his shirt and on his skin, but there’s no wound — just a rough scar, like he’s been healing for weeks. “It’s… fine,” he says, surprised. “It doesn’t hurt.”

“Still got it,” Merle says, clapping his hands together and looking very pleased with himself. “Now, you’re gonna want to —”

“Oh my God, Taako are you okay?” Kravitz hears Lup’s voice and the sound of her boots crunching over broken glass before he sees her. “What_ happened?_ Merle, what — is _Kravitz_ okay?”

“Hunger,” Taako says. “They _shot_ him.”

“I’m okay,” says Kravitz.

“They got your_ lung_.” Taako looks down at him, scowling. “You were _dying_.”

Kravitz tests out taking a deep breath in. It’s not the most comfortable thing he’s ever felt, but it’s okay. It’s bearable. “I’m okay _now_.”

Taako squeezes his hand, reaching up to touch his face again. “I _told_ you. You’re not fuckin’ _allowed_ to get shot, Bones. We have_ rules._”

Kravitz smiles at Taako, hopelessly happy because _oh_ — Taako _really_ remembers. He remembers the last time Kravitz got shot and the rant he went on after, telling Kravitz that he’d used his one free bullet wound and he couldn’t do it again, that the Soldier was going to lock him up in the beach house for a year if he so much as got a papercut before he finished recovering from the wound. That the Soldier didn’t want to be that scared again so Kravitz better not let it happen.

“Sorry,” Kravitz says, covering Taako’s hand with his own. “It won’t happen again.”

“Better not,” Taako says. “I’ll be _real_ mad.”

Barry clears his throat. Kravitz turns his head to look at him, Lup, and Merle again because right — they’re not alone. “So, uh, Taako,” Barry says. “I take it you… recovered some memories there, bud?”

“A few,” Taako says, after a beat, sounding a little embarrassed. “This is… my boyfriend. Kravitz.”

“Nice to meet you,” says Merle. “Now, do you need me to help get rid of the bodies or can I get back to dinner with my kids?”

#

Kravitz isn’t in as much pain anymore, but he is weak. After Merle leaves — with strict instructions for Kravitz to _rest_ and drink lots of water and eat something before he sleeps — Hallwinter and Lup leave to change and call SHIELD to help clean up, and Taako half-carries him to the apartment he’s been staying in.

They’re both covered in blood. It means Taako sitting him on the edge of the bathtub and helping Kravitz get out of his bloody clothes. His hands wander, sliding over Kravitz’s butt in a way they _really_ don’t have to and Kravitz can’t help laughing and leaning against Taako’s chest. “I just got shot,” he says, closing his eyes and resting his head on Taako’s shoulder. “And you’re feeling me up.”

“Just checking to make sure it’s all still there. It’s been a while.” Taako kisses Kravitz’s neck and Kravitz can feel him grinning against his skin. “I can stop.”

“Didn’t say stop.” Kravitz pulls back so he can look at Taako. “If I get turned on right now I’m probably going to pass out though. I don’t have that much blood left in me.”

“Gross,” says Taako, leaning in to press their lips together. It’s everything Kravitz has been missing for weeks now. Taako’s mouth against his, mismatched hands on his skin. Part of Kravitz had worried he wouldn’t get it back, but here Taako is, pressed up against him, memories restored.

Partially restored. Kravitz doesn’t know what’s there and what isn’t, but Taako remembers _them _and that’s the most important thing right now. Everything else will come later. He’s sure of it.

Kravitz reaches up to touch Taako’s cheek. “I missed you, luchik.”

“Oh, _luchik_. You really did miss me.” Taako turns his head, kissing Kravitz’s palm. “I missed you too, Bones. I mean, I know I didn’t remember you, but I missed you.”

“You thought I was weird,” Kravitz says, because it’s true and _maybe_ he was coming on a little too strong, but still. He got_ shot_. He deserves sympathy now.

“Krav, you tried to kill my sister and then told me we’d been boyfriends for half a century. Of _course_ I thought you were weird.” Taako leans in to give him another kiss. “You _are_ weird, but I love you. Come on, let’s wash the blood off so you can eat something and take a nap. I wanna touch and I can’t because you went and got yourself _shot_.”

“You remember me now though,” Kravitz says, letting go of Taako so he can turn the water on. “It was worth it.”

“I’ll push you into the tub if you’re not careful. It was _not_.” Taako strips off the bloody hoodie he’s wearing, sitting beside Kravitz on the edge of the tub. “You’re not allowed to get shot again, okay? I was — I don’t want to lose you.”

Kravitz wraps his arms around Taako, pulling him close. It feels good to hold him again. Kravitz really _can’t_ object to getting shot when this is the result. “I’ll do my best,” he says, because he can’t really promise not to get shot again given the line of worth they’re both in. They’d both know it was a lie. “I think the _Hunger’s_ who we should be focusing on here. They’re the ones who shot me. And wiped your memories.”

“Oh, I’m _real_ fuckin’ focused on them, don’t you worry.” Taako looks up at him and he’s all Winter Soldier now — cold, determined. “As soon as you’re better, we’re going to take them out. They don’t get to touch me again and they _definitely_ don’t get to lay a finger on you or Lup.”

Kravitz smiles, leaning in to press their lips together again, kissing Taako slow and sweet. “Another murder tour,” he says. “Like when we left the Red Room. Sounds romantic.”

“_Just_ like when we left the Red Room,” Taako agrees. “We’re gonna burn the Hunger to the fuckin’ ground, Bones. They’re not gonna know what hit them.”

#

Taako’s got most of the pieces of _Taako_ back and he’s doing his best to make them all fit together the right way. He and Kravitz get the blood off and then fall into Kravitz’s borrowed bed in Hallwinter Tower together and pass the fuck out. It’s easier to make his brain work when he wakes up. His memories of Kravitz are less jarring now. Taako remembers deciding to steal him. He remembers fighting their way out of the Red Room — _the Hunger_— together.

He remembers not remembering his past or his name and not thinking that was important. He had Kravitz and their life together and whoever he’d been before didn’t matter. Taako’s not gonna tell Lup about _that _particular tbit of his past. Feels rude, even if there’s no way he could have known about her.

Taako wraps himself around Kravitz and, after waking briefly to have an epiphany about his brain being better, falls asleep again. He can’t seem to help himself anymore. If he’s still and comfortable for too long, he’s sleeping.

When he wakes up a second time, Lup’s there. She and Kravitz are having a hushed conversation, whispering furiously and something about Lup _violating their privacy_ is definitely being thrown around a lot.

Taako groans, lifting his head off Kravitz’s shoulder to look at Lup, standing over their bed. “Lup?” he says. “What the fuck?”

“Oh good,” says Lup. “You’re awake. I was texting you and you weren’t replying.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I was _asleep_.” Taako pushes his hair back, out of his face, and squints up at her. “Were you worried?”

“The Hunger attacked the tower yesterday, Taako. Of _course_ I was worried. I didn’t know they knew you were here. I didn’t know they could get that close to you. What if they’d taken you? What if —”

“I wouldn’t let that happen,” Kravitz says, cutting her off. “They weren’t going to get him.”

“You got _shot_.” Lup frowns down at Kravitz like he did it on purpose or something. “You would have died if Merle hadn’t shown up.”

“Are you holding that _against him?_” Taako knew Lup and Kravitz didn’t get along great, but that seems like a weird pull. “Lup, my boyfriend almost dies saving my life and you think that’s _bad?_”

“He could have called us to come back and help,” Lup says. “JARVIS told us you were being attacked too late for us to be able to do anything about it.”

“You were busy fighting robots anyway,” Taako says. “I handled it.”

Lup shakes her head. “You shouldn’t have _had_ to.”

Kravitz shifts in bed, trying to push himself up, wincing as he does. Taako pushes him right the fuck back down. “You almost _died_,” he says. “Stay down.”

Kravitz rolls his eyes, which means he must be feeling better. “Fine,” he says, and looks at Lup. “You don’t have to feel guilty about not being there. They lured you out on purpose.”

Lup looks offended. Deeply, _truly_ offended in way that means Kravitz hit the nail on the head and that’s just — ridiculous.

“Lup, I’m fine,” Taako says, sitting up beside Kravitz. “I’m in one piece and didn’t even get shot. _Kravitz_ is fine too. I mean, he will be. And I’ve got more of my memories back now, so… things worked out. They’re okay.”

“You could have been taken and I wouldn’t have been here to do anything about it.” Lup sits on the side of the bed, running a hand through her hair. “T, this _sucks_. I thought the Hunger was finished in the 40s and then a couple weeks ago, and now they’re back _again_ and I refuse to let those fuckers live up to their whole ascendent thing.”

Taako reaches out to give Lup’s shoulder a pat. “It’s okay,” he says. “Me and Krav have got this one. We’re gonna go out and hunt them down. If you burn down _all_ their bases and then salt the earth, they can’t do shit to ascend.”

Lup frowns again, which wasn’t exactly what Taako was going for. “Did you just tell me you’re planning to go _murder _everyone who was involved with the Hunger?”

“They’re the bad guys,” Taako says, defensively. “It’s cool to kill them.”

“Sure,” Lup agrees, which isn’t very Captain America of her. “But babe, that’s like… hundreds of people.”

“We killed the Red Room,” Kravitz says, shrugging, from his position lying prone between them. “We can handle it.”

“The Red Room — the place you met. Where you were trained.” Lup glances from Kravitz to Taako. “You killed _all_ of them?”

“Definitely most,” Taako says. “Definitely took out all the other Reapers, so… you know, that’s a pretty good chunk. Trainers. Technicians. Obviously missed _somebody_, so…”

“There were records,” Lup says, after a beat. “Barry and I have, uh, kind of been sitting on this part of things, but during all the drama with the helicarriers we dumped a bunch of data onto the internet and some of it had info about… you. Both of you. Not by name, but…. the Red Room was in there. The Reaper program. I got JARVIS to look it up after Kravitz got here. The Hunger had a lot of information about it.” She looks down at Kravitz again. “I haven’t read them. I’ve been tempted, but it seemed like a violation of privacy. I can’t promise other people haven’t read it though.”

“Well, fuck,” says Taako, after a beat. “Somebody get me a tablet. I wanna know what the files say about my boy. Then you should make breakfast for the four of us and we should chat. Krav and I are gonna run you through a crash course on how to take out an evil organization from the ground up.”

#

When all’s said and done, when Taako’s brain is together enough for outside, when the Hunger and John are dead, Taako _does_ get his pizza oven. Not where or how he expected to, but he gets it, and how many other people can say Barry Hallwinter built them a rooftop pizza oven?

“You better make a _lot_ of pizzas,” Lup says, as Taako and Barry work to figure out how to actually burn wood in it.

“I’m gonna make _so_ many pizzas,” says Taako. He glances over his shoulder at Kravitz, who’s hanging back and watching him and Barry struggle, clearly amused. Taako switches to Russian. “[Don’t just stand there laughing, come help.]”

“No,” says Kravitz, in English. “I’m enjoying watching.”

Taako rolls his eyes. “You’re a terrible boyfriend.”

Kravitz just grins. “I got _shot_ for you.”

It’s been long enough now that Taako’s first reaction isn’t to tell him that it’s too soon to joke. Instead, he sticks his tongue out at him. “Doesn’t stop you from being a terrible boyfriend.”

“Hey,” says Lup, interrupting before they can get too into flirting with each other. “You’ve been together for fifty years now, right? Have you ever thought about marriage?” Taako and Kravitz freeze in place, stunned silent by the question, and Lup smiles like a shark. “Just wondering.”

Barry ends up ordering them pizza, but in Lup’s defense Taako and Kravitz are engaged by the end of the week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it's complete! If you enjoyed this very niche AU of All the Things You Prayed For, please leave a comment and a kudos! <3
> 
> Sorry for the delay getting the last chapter up. I didn't want to spoil any of the elements here that are similar to the ending of the actual fic. You can also find me on tumblr where I'm [@marywhal](http://marywhal.tumblr.com)!

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the nichest of niche AUs! If you enjoyed, please leave a comment and kudos to let me know.
> 
> Title from SAINT MOTEL's [You're Nobody Till Somebody Wants You Dead](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AL583lVdZYk).
> 
> I have no good explanation for this (sometimes you finish writing the main story and just start speculating wildly about AUs of it with your writing partner, then end up writing them down), but you can come ask me other questions on tumblr, where I'm [@marywhal](http://marywhal.tumblr.com)!


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